


Beat Down

by Vanyel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Don't cross him, Evil/Blackwatch Lucio, NaNoWriMo, Reyes is confused but thankful, Sweet summer child, Who can torture a man, also he decides to mess with people just because, and scared, anon request, but who knows?, mmmmmm, so far at least, well more reason than that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7696684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanyel/pseuds/Vanyel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's got to start somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interrogation

Lucio tapped his foot to a beat only he heard, looking at the security feed of the man sitting in the small room. He looked so....angry. Everyone around here looked so angry. They needed to lighten up a bit, man.

“So, we just gotta get him to tell us who told him bout the back door files?” He tilted his head, looking up at the scowling agent checking over his outfit. “Doesn’t sound too hard.”

Gabriel looked at him, eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a game, rana. Mundy’s a hardened killer-you can’t just ask him nicely. I know how much he can take. I trained old Edvard myself. I’d rather have broken you in on someone a little...softer for your first interrogation, but you need to see how it goes, and having you there will make me look more dangerous, which is our one shot of getting this out in a reasonable time. Just watch what I do.” He smirked, reaching for the doorknob. “Every man caves eventually.”

Bouncing on his heels, Lucio moved out the door before Gabriel could step through. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s break him down!” He zipped down the hall, beatboxing softly and smiling like a kid going for ice cream.

Following, Reyes shook his head. Damn kid didn’t know a thing.

~

The traitor spat out another wad of blood, rubbing his jaw and reaching inside to pull out a shard of a tooth before grinning madly at Reyes. “Told ya, fucker. You’re not getting shit outta me.”

Reyes scowled, cleaning the blood from his hand off on the man’s back. “You’re getting off easy, punk. You don’t want me to get started for real.”

“Oh yeah? Is that why you brought the new kid?” Edvard’s eyes flicked over to Lucio, leaning against the wall and staring back with that same grin. He blinked. “Stop...stop smiling, kid, the fuck’s wrong with you?”

He laughed, a sweet, gentle sound that did not fit his surroundings. “This is just so cool! The whole ‘I won’t tell you anything’, ‘you’ll talk eventually’-it’s like something outta a movie!” Moving over the ground as smoothly as if he had wheels instead of feet, Lucio leaned on Edvard’s back, ignoring the matching noises of confusion from him and Reyes and grinning. “I can hear the soundtrack now-”

_ Buzz. Buzz. _

Reyes pulled his communicator out of his pocket, looking at the screen. Shit, that’s right, squad 13 was coming back today. Grumbling, he moved to the door. “Lucio, stay here, make sure old Mundy doesn’t try anything,” he called back.

The last thing he saw was Lucio shooting him a thumbs up with a grin and a “Gotcha, boss!” before he slammed the door shut.

~

Reyes returned a few minutes later, tucking the report into his pocket to be read later. He still needed to deal with the traitor, who was probably sitting there all smug, getting his wind back.

He opened the door, sighing. “So, Lucio, did he try to esc-”

“FUCKING CHRIST I’LL TALK, PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!”

“Aww, come on man, what happened to ‘you’re not getting shit from me’, huh? I’m not even to verse two yet!” 

The room smelled so strongly of blood, but Reyes couldn’t see any. There was no blood on the walls. There was no blood on Lucio’s knuckles. The Brazilian was leaning over the table, one hand pressed against the side of Edvard’s head. The other curled under his chin, looking so small and dark pressed against that pale throat. He looked up, and smiled at Gabriel as brightly as ever. “Heyyyyy, you missed the music, man! Mundy here can really sing when he tries!”

His hands came away, and Reyes saw blood on his palms, dark and slightly dried. Edvard immediately curled back against the chair, looking to the commander like a lifeline. “It was Wayne! Squad 12, the l-little guy! Wayne was the one! H-h-h-h-he got them a few months back!” He winced and held his head, and a small rush of blood came out of his ear. “M-make it stop, please! I’ll tell you everything, just make it stop!”   
Gabe was stunned, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Lucio.”

“Yeah boss?” His smile almost seemed to grow even brighter, rocking onto his heels.

“...Take notes.” Reyes pulled up a chair to the other side of the table, sitting back and putting his feet up. “Spill it, Mundy. All of it. It won’t stop until you do.”

Whatever  _ it _ was.

~

Reyes tapped Lucio on the shoulder as they walked back down the hall, watching him turn and pull out a headphone with a sweet smile. “Yeah boss?”

“What did you do back there?” To see such a strong man as Edvard Mundy, one he’d trained against torture techniques  _ himself _ , shaking like a leaf and begging after only a few minutes of being left alone with this...child. It didn’t make sense.

Lucio’s smile broadened, almost unsettlingly happy and causing a shiver to run down the commander’s spine. “I grew up in the  _ favella _ . We didn’t have money, so I found a few other ways to get what I want.” He sighed, shaking his head, dreads bouncing every which way. “There’s just some people who can’t appreciate good music, man.”

Then he walked on, seemingly not noticing as Reyes stood in the hallway, watching him from behind as his hair bobbed with each bouncy step.

And only one thought ran through the commander’s head. 

_ Thank God the kid’s on my side. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Lucio torturing his first victim? Then it starts getting easier. Like, Reaper being the good cop for once in his entire life while Lucio, (bless his soul) is smacking the victim around relentlessly and reaper is just like "o dam"
> 
> I listen to "The Room Where it Happens" on loop a lot when I write. It helps. It may have inspired this a bit.


	2. Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He really bothering you that badly?”

Most people, if asked, would say that Reaper had one mood: rage. He wasn’t a man of much positive expression – if he was even a man anymore – and what emotion he did have seemed to be constrained to angry yelling at anyone who remotely annoyed him and firing shotguns into whatever or whoever was nearby, with the occasional long sullen silence. There wasn’t a lot of nuance. That is, if you didn’t know him that well.

But Lucio knew him better than that. Reaper hadn’t changed that much from his days in Blackwatch, and his moods were noticeable to the small man. He saw the way the mist around the bottom edges of the mask seeped out a little slower than normal, how the sharps claws dug into the grip of his shotguns enough to leave faint scratch marks. Something was bothering Reaper, big time.

Reaper didn’t need a lock. People knew not to go in his room without him-a lesson Junkrat had learned the hard way. Lucio knew it was still a good idea to announce himself first, though. “Knock knock!” He knocked twice, then opened the door, smiling brightly and carrying a tray of little fried dough balls. Reaper was sitting on the end of what functioned as his bed, sharpening his gloves and looking up with that piercing red glare behind his mask. Closing the door behind himself, Lucio smiled, holding out the tray. “I made bolinho de chuva, and I thought you’d want some, ey boss? I remember you always liked them when you weren’t feeling yourself. And you’ve been low lately, man, I can tell. So what’s up?”

Lucio glided over the floor as Reaper grumbled something but lifted his mask, exposing the shadowy mass that passed for his face nowadays. He growled low, stabbing one of the treats with a steel claw. “…76.” His voice was gravely and soft at the same time. “He keeps rambling about ‘teamwork’ and ’wanting to know who he’s working with,’ and other bullshit. I don’t give a shit about who I’m working with, and I’m not here to spill my guts to some two-bit Overwatch nut past his prime. But he doesn’t fucking get it.” He chomped down on the treat, eyes flashing a dark red, and carelessly spewed crumbs as he continued. “The man won’t leave me the fuck alone. Even after I ‘accidentally’ shot his pasty patriotic ass on the field. Twice.” Another two balls were speared and stuffed into his mouth with a huff.

The smile slipped from Lucio’s face as he listened. “Yeah, man, I can see how that would be a bit of a snag.” 76 was a bit of a…personality. Acted like a man trained to leadership, and a good leadership at that, but trying to get any closer to Reaper than he wanted to be was asking for death. Or, on a battlefield like theirs where death was a mere nuisance, a fate worse than death. “He really bothering you that badly?”

A loud knock on the door, and the slightly distorted voice, as if summoned by the discussion. “Reaper? You in there?” Reaper shot a look at Lucio, as if to say “See?” “I saw you heading this way.”

Reaper gave a deep sigh. “He’s always too fucking close. If I could just get some distance from that bastard for one damn day-“ Another knock, and Reaper growled, spearing two last bolinhos onto his glove and pulling his mask back down over his face. He turned to mist, slipping out the window as 76 raised his voice.

“I can hear you in there! Dammit Reaper, I told you we’d be briefing after the mission, and you didn’t show- _ again! _ ”  The knocking turned to pounding on the door. “How the hell do you expect to function as a member of this team if you run away when someone tries to talk to you!”

Lucio stood, skating over to the door and opening it with the hand not holding the tray. 76 stood there, brow furrowed in exasperation as the audiomedic appeared, shrugging. “Ey, sorry, amigo, he had to go,” Lucio said, offering an apologetic smile and the tray. “Bolinho?”

76 grunted, turning and marching down the hallway, ignoring Lucio and mumbling under his breath. “I swear to God, when I find him I will figure out what the hell he’s hiding…”

Another shrug, and Lucio ate one of the balls instead, watching 76 storm off. “Your loss,” he hummed softly.

~

“Mercy?” Lucio smiled as the medic looked up expectantly. “Ey, where does 76 keep his spare visors? I got an idea for a way to kick his communicator up a notch-it’s been out of whack and going all staticy and stuff-but I don’t wanna bug with the one he’s wearing right now in case tinkering takes a bit, si? Plus I kinda wanna surprise him since he’s been pretty busy lately. ” He gave a small chuckle. “King of Paperwork, he is.”

Angela smiled. Lucio was always finding little ways to make himself useful, even without being asked. And that brilliant smile hid a brilliant technological mind full of ideas that worked wonders more often than not-she found herself constantly amazed by his ability. “That sounds wonderful, Lucio,” she said softly, nodding her head down the hallway. “The spare visors are in the secondary ammo room, a box in the back labelled ‘Spare Spectacles’. And I know-“ she raised a hand to interrupt Lucio before he could say something more- “I won’t tell him. He deserves a happy surprise.”

Lucio grinned, giving a small salute from the infirmary doorway. “Thanks, Mercy, you’re the best!” He skated off down the hall, beatboxing softly, and Angela chuckled softly as she turned back to her paperwork. What a sweet young man.

~

Soldier 76 was sitting in his room when it began, perched on the end of his bed, methodically cleaning his pulse rifle. He turned it over to check one of the grooves-

And dropped the weapon with a dull clatter.

His hands went to his ears, and 76 doubled over, a splitting and pounding pain running through his head. It felt like his brain was trying to pump itself up like a balloon in short, hard bursts, and each pulse sent another jolt through him. The man opened his mouth to scream, but his throat began to give the same swelling pulse, and all that came out was a strangled cry. He couldn’t see straight. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. It hurt too much.

The pounding traveled down, speeding up as it met his heart, like it was trying to match its racing beat. In a rush, the whole room began to smell like blood, though he was too disoriented to locate a source for several seconds. Pain had reached down to his knees before the iron tang made itself clearer, the feeling of a thick liquid seeping onto his neck. Soldier 76 swore he could feel it leaking out from under the visor where it covered his ears, and he clawed desperately at the mask with scrabbling fingers. His heartbeat, and the painful pounding, sped up. Soldier 76 stumbled around the room blindly, ending up in front of the mirror, trying to get his visor off. Only one thought cut through the pain-  _ make it stop. Make it stop. Make it fucking stop. _

Finally one lucky finger flailed across the mask release, the hiss of decompression almost musical as it fell off Soldier’s face. As he watched in the mirror, another small spurt of blood came from his ears in time with the pounding in his head. It dribbled slowly down the sides of his head, a crawling sensation that sent a shiver down his spine. But slowly, too slowly, the pounding began to die down, weakening from the bottom up. 76 stood a little straighter, gasping for air when his throat finally unclenched, and waiting until the pulsing had faded almost entirely away to collapse on his bed, panting and staring at the ceiling. Blood still slowly flowed from his ears, running behind him to gently drip onto the mattress.

His voice returned, and 76 breathed one phrase.

_ “What the fucking fuck.” _

~

Mercy had cleared him, not noting any internal cause to the body-wide pain. Winston had looked over his visor, declaring it “old, but not old enough to cause this kind of malfunction”, and dismissed it. Soldier 76 was not happy with either of these answers.

He stomped down the hallway towards the mess hall. Maybe he could just scour his room and find whatever the hell caused it in there. But food first. Once his stomach had unknotted itself, he was starving.

As 76 passed the infirmary once more, the oddest sense of cycling pressure entered his head. Nothing like the pounding from the day before, but definitely a present feeling, waxing and waning from moment to moment. He whirled, looking for eyes, a source, anything-nothing. Except, when he focused, he thought he could hear...something. Like a tune he’d nearly forgotten. Shaking his head, Soldier turned back towards the mess hall, moving forward.

The pressure increased, edging quickly towards painful. Soldier 76’s hands fell to his rifle. He turned the corner-

Reaper, standing in the middle of the hallway, discussing something with Symmetra.

The pressure tripled almost the instant 76 laid eyes on them, and he leaned against the wall, grunting. Reaper and Symmetra turned in surprise at the sound, and Reaper’s displeasure was almost palpable. “What do you want, boy scout?” he growled, moving swiftly towards the man leaning on the wall.

Every step Reaper took closer seemed to speed and strengthen the pounding pain, and finally 76 growled, pulling himself forcefully upright and turning on his heel to run away from him at full speed. Reaper watched him go with annoyance and confusion in equal measure.

~

“It HAS to be him.”

“Soldier, I told you. We tried every form of truth detection we know-even some you don’t.” Mercy adjusted her glasses. “Reaper has no idea what caused your pain when you came close to him, nor when you were in your room.”

He slammed a fist into the infirmary wall. “Dammit, Angela, it gets  _ worse _ the closer I get to him! He HAS to be behind it. You see how much he’d been trying to avoid me, and now it’s the other way around! Reaper got what he wanted!”

She sighed. “I can’t say he seemed particularly unhappy about seeing less of you this past week, no, but I...it’s not his style, Soldier. Reaper didn’t do it. And if it continues to worsen in proximity to him, the only suggestion I can make is to continue to avoid him-oh?”

A knock on the open infirmary door made them both turn, Lucio blinking gently at the serious looks. “Yo, am I interrupting something? I got something for 76, and thought I’d drop it off with you before the jam session with Hana, doc, but...” They shook their heads, and he smiled brightly, skating inside and coming to a stop right between the two. “Well, I heard some static on your com about a month back, and it just kept getting worse, and it was only coming in when your line was open, and I was like ‘yo, that ain’t gonna work, we need to hear him!’ So...” He pulled out one of 76’s visors, holding it up like some precious thing. “I got one of your spares from doc here and made a few upgrades! Should get you that nice sound, loud and clear now!”

Soldier 76 took the visor, turning it over in his hands. “Huh. Thank you Lucio.” He clapped the Brazilian on the shoulder, nodding solemnly. “Hopefully this will fit the other problem too.”

“Other problem?” Lucio looked concerned. “What’s going on, man? Anything I can help with?”

A slow sigh. “No, nothing you can help with. I’ll figure it out. You’re an asset to the team, Lucio.” 76 patted his shoulder before turning him around. “Go. I’m sure Hana’s waiting for you.”

Lucio grinned, spinning in the doorway to wave goodbye to both of them before taking off down the hallway. He weaved his way past the rooms, slowing only by the armory for a moment and waving to Reaper inside. “Yo, what’s hanging, boss? You’ve been looking better lately.”

Reaper paused in his rifling through boxes to look up at Lucio. A dark, terrifying chuckle rolled out from behind the mask. “Ah, rana, I’m  _ feeling _ better now that Soldier’s off my ass. I don’t know what happened, but it’s like he’s avoiding  _ me _ now, which I’m fucking fine with.” He spun a shotgun in his hand, the shifting darkness behind his mask almost seeming to brighten for just a moment. “Looks like something’s looking out for me after all.”

With a laugh, Lucio nodded, turning on a dime and skating off once more. His head bounced, and there was the faintest sound, like he was humming a tune nearly forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: MORE LUCIO TORTURING PEOPLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEE PLSSSSSS IM SO THIRSTY FOR MOAAAAAAAR QnQ perhaps him torturing a member of OW for fun?
> 
> Not exactly for fun, but I thought this would work better. Lucio's gotta have his reasons, man.


	3. Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A routine mission goes a little...interesting.

If anyone was paying attention to the narrow hallway, they wouldn’t see him, Commander Reyes mused to himself as he paused around the bend. People became so short-sighted when they thought they were keeping a good watch, so convinced of their own perceptive abilities. Yet they were always blind to anything but the little bit of the world they were hyper-focused on watching, tunnel vision closing around one piece of reality. Move in just a slightly unpredictable manner, and you could get close enough to smell their deodorant before they had any idea there was even anything to see. You could become a ghost by stepping a few inches off the planned path. And being a ghost was just fine with Gabriel Reyes. It made his job that much easier.

He’d already checked the hallway he was standing in-next passage by the night guard through it wouldn’t be for a quarter of an hour at the least. Reyes pulled out a shiny metal cylinder, palming it and slipping out the two small disks. He flicked his wrist up, watching one magnetic disk fly up to the high ceiling. A beautiful little contraption, he thought with a small smile - one of the perks of being the Commander was getting all the best new toys from Research and Development. This little device had quickly become an indispensable tool to him. Silent aerial surveillance and infiltration. Perfect for the less savory missions Blackwatch found itself completing.

The cylinder had a small viewing screen, and Reyes looked through the small camera mounted on the drone as it hovered a few centimeters from the ceiling. Two yards to the nearest door, looked like a storage closet. A press of a button, and the drone slid smoothly along down the gently curving hallway, the camera sweeping from side to side. Standard office building doors, some with muffled conversation behind them hovering at the edge of the drone’s audio sensors, one that seemed to be playing music for a moment before quieting down, and-

Aha.

Two sloppily-dressed night guards stood a little more than halfway down the hallway, very badly attempting to look like they were guarding the doors on either side of a much larger, specially painted door across the hallway from them. Reyes snorted softly to himself. Amateurs. They made his target’s room impossible to miss, standing against the walls, eyes almost fixated on the door. If you’re going to guard something, watch the area around it, not the object itself.

Reyes clicked something on the cylinder and slipped it back into his pocket, smiling to himself. He could almost feel the faraway drone lift and attach itself to the ceiling, as solid as if it had been built with it. The second disk fluttered up from his hand to the ceiling directly above himself, similarly binding itself to the metal. Wait five seconds for them to sync position and align...done. A thin yet strong cable whipped out, connecting the two with an almost inaudible click, hanging almost a foot lower. It curled down a bit further, just within Reyes’ reach, and he scaled it, transferring to the long cable. He grabbed onto it with both hands and feet and began making his way along the ceiling with ease.

The Ghost’s Path, one of the other agents had named it after seeing it in action. A fitting name. That wire was strong enough to hold a whole team of agents, could stretch across seemingly impassable distances, and was virtually undetectable unless you knew what you were trying to find. That it attached to the ceiling as well as the floor made Reyes the best infiltrator in any military or criminal organization known to man (Blackwatch straddled the line between the two). As an aerial point of passage, it was the greatest weakness of every security system he’d ever encountered. No matter how many people or cameras were trained on one spot, no matter how well they were trained to watch their surroundings, no one ever looked up. As long as he stayed high and quiet, to the guards, Reyes didn’t exist.

Making his way silently around the bend of the hallway, Reyes watched one of the guards yawn, half-turned towards the far side of the hallway with a bored expression. The other picked idly at a scab on his face. Stopping right above his target door, Reyes quickly scanned the hallway for cameras. He nearly ended up bumping one with his foot, smiling and silently freezing the feed on a small 10-second cycle. Let the lazybones in the security office think everything was alright. Carefully pulling something out of his pocket, Reyes clung to the wire with his knees and slipped in a pair of earplugs. He tossed the other item onto the ground, directly between the two guards.

Instantly, both of them snapped to face it, hands hovering on their weapons, staring intently at the-

The tiny metal skull, grinning at them with red eyes, and...beeping?

A flash and a faint ringing buzz signaled the radio pulse echoing down the hallway. The guards wavered for a second before their eyes rolled back into their heads, and they collapsed to the floor with matching thuds. Reyes dropped down after them, twisting and landing on all fours to cushion the blow. He yanked out his earplugs, tossing them onto the unconscious guards and casually pulling the door open.

A slow grin spread across his face at the sight of the overly-large chair turned away behind the oversized desk. Too important to pay attention to the door, was he? He snorted softly, silently unclipping one of the shotguns from his belt as he walked across the soft carpet. Reyes loved this type of mission - some bigwig too busy committing more fraud or stealing their next hundred thousand dollars to notice the door shut, hear the final nail being driven into their coffin. It made that look of dawning realization on their faces so much...sweeter. Knocking the phone out of their hand, letting them try to beg and bribe as their death stared at them from a pair of 10-gauge barrels. That was the best part.

His barely-audible movements covered by the music seeping from the expensive speakers propped against the wall, Reyes moved towards the chair, coming up right behind it, seeing the man’s legs dangling from the far end. Probably signing the death warrant of another innocent man. His last. Reyes shoved the back of the chair with his shotgun casually, spinning it to face him and stopping it with a hand on the puffy arm. A dark grin was set across his face, dangerous.

“Buenas tardes, Señor Killia-”

The sight of the corpse stopped the commander mid-taunt, voice trailing off. That was Alexander Killiam, all right, down to the star-shaped mole on his left cheek. He was also quite dead, obvious from even a cursory glance. His eyes were bloodshot and unblinking, the veins standing out on his face and arms like they had been painted. Killiam’s arms were up, and his hands seemed glued to his ears, elbows locked in their place in his final moments. And what final moments they must have been, Reyes thought detachedly. The man’s expression was pure terror, his face forever frozen in a rictus of fear and eternal agony.

Quickly, Reyes went on high alert, scanning the rest of the room. No signs of a disturbance or struggle, as if the man had just had a heart attack in his chair-but no heart attack looked like that. Killiam was still faintly warm, so he couldn’t have been dead more than a few minutes at the most. Which meant that whoever had killed him was still in the building, probably still on the same floor. But where? The door had been guarded, unopened the entire time Reyes was watching it, and there were no other entrances or exits to Killiam’s room. Reyes had the floor plan memorized cover to cover. He knew every single ventilation duct and secret passage in this whole goddamn building. Killiam’s  _ speakers _ were still playing music, for the love of-

Wait.

Reyes did a double-take, looking over the expensive speakers one more time. They were...off. Unplugged from the wall, even. Then where was the sound coming from? He moved to the side of them, examining the bare wall carefully. Thick and insulated. Meant to prevent anyone who might be trying to eavesdrop on important or illicit business meetings from the room over. The finest architectural noise-cancelling construction that dirty money could buy, and yet there it was, the music seeping through the wall as if it were made of tissue paper. It was a strange, haunting song that drew him in almost unconsciously, just faint enough that it made the listener strain to better hear it. 

With his chest pressed against the wall, Reyes could feel the bass more than hear it. A low, rumbling sound that slowly began to speed up. It flowed through him, and seized his heart, which followed the acceleration. The pace pushed, faster and harder and louder and making the blood rush through his ears. Looking down at his hands, his eyes widened as they began to pale, the veins standing out from the skin and pulsing in time with-

With a grunt of effort, Reyes pushed himself away from the wall, panting and nearly stumbling over the desk before catching himself on the edge. He stood for a few moments, just trying to collect himself and figure out what the  _ fuck _ just happened to him before turning back to Killiam’s body.

A pause, and a small shrug. Might as well see if the bastard had any information on his underworld contacts on him. Well, not  _ if,  _ but  _ where _ . Sleazebags like him always had blackmail hanging over anyone and everyone they could get dirt on, and kept it close at all times. Search his pockets, his molars, his underwear, his shoes- Bingo. A few memory sticks of carefully labeled data (thank you Killiam for being a neat freak) were carefully packed into one of the multitude of pouches on his belt. Reyes stepped back towards the door, checking on the hallway with the outside camera all these fancy security offices had built into them. All clear - guards still snoozing like babies as he exited, casually stepping over them. He reached up and pressed a button on the container for the Ghost’s Path, whistling to himself. From here, it was just a matter of walking out the door without being seen, and Reyes turned towards the hallway out.

The music grew just a touch louder, at the edge of Reyes’ perception. He heard its direction, clearly coming from the room next to Killiam’s. It was faster now, the high melody beckoning. Reyes took one step away, and then stopped. He hadn’t gotten this far in his career without trusting that devilish combination of instinct and curiosity. There shouldn’t be anyone else in the building at this time of night besides the sleeping guards and the one roaming security officer. Whoever was playing music was either foolish, or up to something as shady as him. Likely stealing the elimination of Mr. Killiam out from under Blackwatch’s fingertips. That was an insult that needed to be addressed. Besides, one person had already been murdered here tonight. If someone else was discovered with a bullet spread in his back, no one would bat an eye.

Reyes turned back, facing the door. It was unpainted wood, number 835 on a faded number plate, hinges slightly rusty from disuse. The handle didn’t even seem to have an external lock on it - this must be the office for whatever poor sap is Killiam’s intern. Or was. Readying a shotgun, the Blackwatch commander moved up alongside the door, placing his hand on the handle. Unlocked, like he’d thought, ready to open at the slightest touch. One, two-

In one smooth movement, Reyes shoved the door open and instantly raised his shotgun into the opening space. The door thumped against the far wall, bouncing back from the aftershock. It was a fairly normal, undersized intern’s office. There was a plastic plant sitting by the door, overflowing cabinets lined up against the wall-

And a young man dressed very peculiarly in green was lying on the desk with his legs casually draped across the scattered pens and paperwork. His head hung upside-down from the end of the desk, long brown dreads twisting down to coil on the floor in a pile. The man’s eyes were closed. A small, sweet smile crossed his face as his head bobbed in time with the haunting music still coming from the pair of headphones draped casually around his neck, too softly to have been coming through the door at the volume that he did. He didn’t seem to notice the door opening, humming along softly.

Reyes blinked. What kind of outfit was that? What place had...mechanical pants for sale? Yet somehow they worked on the man’s thin legs, meshing with the sleeveless tank with a simple symbol of a frog wearing headphones. This man was clearly not an employee of the firm, which means that he was not supposed to be here either. Interesting-someone other than Reyes had managed to sneak past the guards tonight. The only question was why.

Moving up alongside the man with silent steps, the first noise Reyes made was pulling back the hammer on his shotgun, holding it a few inches from the man’s face. The man opened his eyes, blinking in minor confusion. One of his hands twitched, and the music ceased coming from his headphones. 

“Oh, sorry, man, is this your office?” His voice was soft and smooth, with a gentle lilt to it that might have put a less-paranoid man than Reyes at ease. He sat up slowly, ignoring the gun tracking with his movements. “I didn’t mean to intrude or snoop or nothing. I was just supposed to meet Mr. Killiam here and I wasn’t sure if I should keep waiting out in the hallway for him, and this door was unlocked. It was, like, right next door too.” The man flashed Reyes a smile. “Is he ready for me?”

A pause stretched out between them, Reyes slowly raising an eyebrow. “Maybe. Who should I tell him is here to see him?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. The gun tilted to gesture at his shirt, one corner of Reyes’ mouth twitching upwards. “La rana?”

The man laughed softly, a musical sound that rang from all sides like a melody, and shook his head. “Good one man! But no. Lucio, Lucio’s here, about the whole internship thing? I saw the ad in the paper, and we talked on that old video conference call yesterday. He told me to come in tonight, when he wouldn’t be busy with anything else.” Lucio gave a soft shrug, folding his legs. “But those big guys outside said he was still working on some big deal or something, and that I gotta wait and everything.” He tilted his head and smiled at Reyes along the line of the gun pointed at his head. “He musta been busy talking to you, huh? Since there’s like no one else here.”

“...in a way,” Reyes conceded, looking into Lucio’s eyes. He was trying to find any trace of either fear of death, or hard defiance, or even acceptance of his incoming demise. Any of the emotions that the young man should be feeling with a loaded gun hovering inches from his eyes, and yet...there was only the smile. It unsettled him. “I’m sorry to say you won’t be getting the job, rana.” The nickname rolled off his tongue, feeling fitting. “Mr. Killiam won’t be hiring anyone anymore.” A tap with one finger to the side of the gun, an implication. Let this kid know he had just killed a man, that he was not afraid to do it again. Make him stop fucking smiling.

The smile did fade a bit from Lucio’s face, but only for a moment before it returned, and it was...different. Reyes thought saw something in those eyes that he hadn’t seen in a man’s eyes in many years, and it took more willpower than it should have to hold his ground. And then, with a blink, it was gone. Lucio’s smile was bright and cheery once more, his eyes holding no more secrets.

“Man, that sucks, he seemed like he’d actually pay pretty well.” Lucio slipped to his feet smoothly, tossing his dreads back over his shoulder with a sigh. “But people die, and his hair WAS all kinds of wack, so I guess it’s not a total bust. Guess it’s just back to checking the classifieds to someone who’s fine with a first-timer. Thanks for at least coming in to tell me, mister....” A questioning tilt of his head.

_ Fuck it. In for a penny... _

“Reyes. Gabriel Reyes.” He lowered the gun, placing it against Lucio’s chest. “And I’m afraid you can’t just walk out of here like that just yet. I have a couple of questions for you, Lucio.” Reyes gestured with his head towards the chair behind the desk, giving a small push with the barrel. Lucio paused,  then turned, squeezing past the filing cabinets and taking a casual seat in the chair. He placed his feet on the desk, looking up at a slightly exasperated Reyes. “...Alright. You said that there was no one else in the building. How sure are you of that?” Considering that he had somehow missed one extra person in the building, the Blackwatch commander was not going to take any chances with this...information source.

Lucio shrugged. “Pretty sure. I mean, the lights are all off, and a lot of the doors down the other halls are locked tight. Only people I’ve seen have been the guys outside, and some dude in like a police outfit or something. And you, of course, mister Reyes.” He paused, then tapped the headphones still slung around his neck. “Wasn’t exactly paying the best attention, man, sorry. When I got my tunes on, the whole world falls away.”

Reyes snorted softly, trying to push the unease at the mention of the music down under a veil of contempt for the lack of attention. Kids these days. “That mean you didn’t actually see Killiam?” At the shake of Lucio’s head, he stepped back a bit. Hmm. Kid didn’t see the man himself, didn’t see anyone else but the security, didn’t leave the office...damn. No information worth knowing, or killing him over - if Reyes hadn’t come in here, he might have been able to go home, none the wiser. “Shame.” His finger rested on the trigger. “Well, rana, it’s certainly been....interesting talking to you, but I’m afraid that you’re not going to be thumbing through the classified ads tomorrow morning. Nobody knows I was here, and I’ve got a few reasons to keep it that way.”

Lucio’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward with a grin, nearly startling Reyes into pulling the trigger. “Aw man, are you setting up to execute me like in those old movies?”

The Blackwatch commander blinked. “Lo siento, but  _ what? _ ”

“Like all the movies they made back in the early 2000’s and stuff. You know, all those mobs and shady operations and spies and stuff!” Lucio put a look on his face trying to imitate Reyes, eyebrows drawn together, expression stern. “You know, all ‘I can’t let you out of here knowing the truth’, or ‘you know too much’. Ooh, ooh, or maybe ‘any last words’?” The grimace melted back into a grin, Lucio leaning on the edge of the desk. “Man, I love those movies, with all the running over rooftops and intrigue and banter and taking down the bad guys with their own moves! Plus they always had the best score, nice and fast and tense to get your heart pumping. I always wanted to do that stuff, but never managed to find my way into anyone that’d do things that interesting. That’s why I took this job offer, thought interning for a dirty-dealing businessman might get me into the business of-”

Reyes held up a hand, cutting him off. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Dirty-dealing? You  _ knew _ Killiam was doing something shady?” At Lucio’s nod, he raised an eyebrow. “How?”

Lucio shrugged again. “I dunno, man, I was just going through the company files one day, cuz I got kinda bored trying to work on this one song, and I noticed that there were a couple odd paths for a man like him to be taking his cash. Like, he bought his wife a turquoise necklace, when she’s an October birthday - a man that pays that much for astrological advice would never forget that October’s all about the opal. So I started tracking it, and his firewalls were pretty good for a small-timer, took me nearly all afternoon. After that, it was just seeing the secret accounts, all the deposits in cash for a man that shouldn’t have that much cash on him, and boom! Knew something was going on that was worth checking out.” He smiled at an impressed Reyes. “And, well, it WAS something serious if he’s been all taken out and stuff. You look like serious business - it’s gotta be big to get Blackwatch involved.”

Huh. Kid wasn’t so much a kid after all. It had taken Blackwatch weeks of analysis to detect the patterns of criminal activity, but apparently it took him...an afternoon? In addition, he recognized the patch on his arm as separate from Overwatch. People WITHIN the organization still thought it was the same half the time. 

“...”Reyes stood there a moment more before lowering the gun to his side. He was the commander; any decision he made would not be challenged. Trust that devilish blend of curiosity and instinct once more. “...Lucio?”

“Yeah? What is it, man?” That unsettlingly calm and happy smile.

“...I don’t think I’ve got to kill you after all, rana.” He unlocked the hammer from the shotgun, clipping it back onto his belt. Lucio’s eyes widened a moment as Reyes went on. “You see, in all those old movies, I’m sure the kill comes in some situation where they had no other choice. I can’t let you walk out of here and spread the fact that Blackwatch took out Alexander Killiam. The best way to keep a secret is to kill those who know it.” A pause, and he laid his hand on the desk. “But the second best way is to keep those who know it close. Very close.”

Lucio blinked, tilting his head. “...Are you offering me a job?” At Reyes’ slow nod, he grinned, bouncing up out of his seat and backflipping in the air with a soft whoop. “Aw MAN! You are awesome, mister Reyes- I mean, boss. So when do I start?”

“Right now. Come on, rana,” Reyes said, a faint smirk coming across his face as he gestured at the door, “we still have to get out of here before the guards wake up.” 

He opened his mouth to continue, but Lucio had already somehow gotten behind him. “All right, then, race you to the outside!” Before Reyes could respond, he was already gone, heading off down the hallway and humming that strange song. Thankfully, it was the one the security guard had already swept. Shaking his head, Reyes followed after him, closing the door. A brief thought floated through his mind as he stepped over the unconscious guards; this kid was surprisingly resilient, to be so...cheerful minutes after a gun was held to his face.

_ Still wonder what the fuck happened to Killiam, though. Wish the kid knew who’d taken him out. _ Reyes sighed to himself, stepping out of the building and waving Lucio over to the path back to the transport. _ Oh well. The kid’s enough of a mystery for one night. Don’t envy Killiam, though.  _ A snort. _ That shit looked like it hurt. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone who waited for this patiently-I ended up pushing the writing of this back to help out with Nanowrimo. It deviated a little from the original idea, but I think I'm happy with where it is. Keep you eyes open for a lot of stories this month!  
> (This should be considered a prequel to the other two chapters, obviously.)
> 
> evil!lucio idea: reaper takes out a contract on some random business man and sneaks in all secret like except some fucking kid is there with a loudspeaker asking reaper very politely not to steal his kill. reaper: u rly think ur an assassin, kid? lucio: nah man assassins kill ppl for money. im not like that. r: u don't kill ppl? lucio: no i still kill ppl, i just don't rly need the money u can take it if u want im just here for a good time


End file.
